


Chai Tea & Tomato Rice Soup

by Arya3610



Category: Supernatural
Genre: (at the end) - Freeform, 14k words, Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Normal Life, Castiel (Supernatural)-centric, Coffee Shops, Domestic, M/M, Mary is my version of mary, No Smut, No Spoilers, Sick Castiel, Sick Character, Sickfic, Starbucks, she is not canon, she's nice
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-17
Updated: 2017-08-17
Packaged: 2018-12-16 16:50:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,087
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11832921
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Arya3610/pseuds/Arya3610
Summary: AU where one person has a sort of difficult name and the other is the barista who always says their name rightalso Cas gets sick and Dean is sweet





	Chai Tea & Tomato Rice Soup

“Cas...teel?”

 

Castiel sighed but smiled kindly at the barista as he took his drink. “Thank you.”

 

“No prob, man,” the guy threw back, already turning to prepare the next drink in the never-ending line that was the campus Starbucks during midterms.

 

Castiel carefully navigated the crowd, making sure not to spill any of his drink on his way back to his table.

 

“Why didn't you correct him?” Jessica asked as he sat down, her voice slightly louder than normal to be heard over the buzz of conversation around them.

 

Castiel took a cautious sip of his chai tea and made a face at the immediate burning of his mouth. “It's not really worth it anymore, to be honest,” he replied, absentmindedly flipping through his theology textbook. “I used to try, but they would always forget by the next time I ordered. Also,” he glanced up at the line, “He could use a break. It's his exam week, too, but he has to be here instead of studying. I got the drink I ordered, that's really all I ask.”

 

Jess swept her long, blonde hair into a ponytail and sighed. “I'm just saying, if he got my name wrong, I definitely wouldn't just let it go like that.”

 

Castiel just chuckled. “Well, 'Jess' is a great deal easier than 'Castiel', so I think you're safe. Now, what part did you want to go over?”

 

Jess opened her own textbook, “I just didn't really understand this part here, on page, uh, 224.”

 

Castiel turned to the correct page and started explaining the main ideas.

 

* * *

 

 

A few hours later, Jess closed her book with an air of finality. “Thank you so much, Castiel, I feel a lot better about this test tomorrow.”

 

Castiel gave her a small smile at her as he finished his drink. “It's really no problem, Jess. Explaining things to other people is a good way to help me remember the material as well.”

 

She started packing her things into her backpack. “Well, either way, it was extremely helpful.” She paused and looked up at him. “Are you sure you don't want any money or something? I mean, we were here for at least three hours, and tutors usually charge like at least $10 an hour or something.”

 

Castiel waved off the offer, beginning to pack up his own books away. “This wasn't a tutoring session; it was just a friend helping out a friend. Don't worry about it.”

 

Jessica still looked unsure. “If you say so.” She slowly resumed her packing.

 

“I do. It was no trouble.” Castiel stood, already done. “Would you like me to walk you back to your dorm?”

 

Jess laughed, standing as well. “It's like 5 o'clock, Castiel, not midnight. It's still light out, I'll be fine. Plus,” she grinned wolfishly, “I'm meeting my boyfriend in about half an hour.” She checked the time on her phone and nodded, seemingly to herself.

 

Castiel tossed his empty cup in the trash as they left the coffeehouse. “All right, then, I suppose I'll see you in class tomorrow. Make sure to get enough sleep,” he reminded her. “I wouldn't want you passing out halfway through the exam just because you were out until 3 in the morning with your boyfriend.” He shot her a crooked smile.

 

Jess laughed and swatted at his arm. “Excuse you, I know how to control myself!” She winked at him. “Gotta go, don't want to be late!” She waved back at him as she walked briskly away.

 

Castiel shook his head with a tiny smile at her sudden exit. They had met a few weeks earlier, at the beginning of the semester in their theology class. Jess, as fearless and impulsive as he now knew she always was, she sat down next to him and introduced herself.

 

“Hello, my name is Jessica Moore, and you look like the smartest person here, can I sit next to you?” She had stuck her hand out for a handshake.

 

Castiel had just sat there for a moment, blinking at the sudden entrance. He had shaken her hand tentatively. “Hello, Jessica, my name is Castiel Novak, and I suppose if you want to you could sit next to me.”

 

Jessica’s eyes had widened at his deep voice, obviously not expecting such a gravelly sound, but all she had said was “Cool.”

 

As the class had gone on, they had each learned about the other. Castiel had learned that Jess was very intelligent, but often tried to go faster than she probably should, both in class and simply in life in general. She had a boyfriend named Sam, who she had described as clumsy, tall, and adorable. She obviously adored him, and if the constant stream of texts and calls were any indication, he felt the same.

 

Jess had, in turn, learned that Castiel was, at least in her mind, “the smartest person there”, and tended to work more methodically than she did. He was often, if not always, reading a book of some sort every time she walked into the classroom, but would put it away without complaint if she wanted to talk to him. He didn't seem to have a girlfriend, and by the look on his face when the guy in front of them had decided to wear a tighter shirt than usual, not very interested in looking for one. She hadn't asked about it, though, just let it be, which Castiel was thankful for. He was gay, and he wasn’t ashamed about it, but he didn’t feel the need to tell everyone as soon as he met them. He didn't really want to get into that conversation that soon.

 

He did, however, want to get into his dorm soon, he thought, glancing around at the dead grass everywhere. Winter was coming, and he felt it through his jacket he had put on that morning. He started walking quickly toward his room, sticking his hands into his pockets in a late attempt to protect them from the chill.

  

* * *

 

Jessica walked into the campus Starbucks, huge smile beaming on her face.

 

Castiel glanced up from his book at the cheery jingle from the bell over the door and gave a slight smile back at her. “It went well, then?” He asked when she reached the table, closing his book and slipping it into his bag.

 

“Cas, it was fantastic!” She pulled her phone out of her back pocket, tapping it a few times before turning it to show him the screen. She had pulled up her theology page in her Blackboard account, showing the grade from the midterm. “I got a 98, Cas!! Everything you said would be on it was on it, and the explanations you gave were so helpful!”

 

Castiel looked up from the screen and smiled again, “I’m glad you did well. It was all of your hard work that paid off, I just helped a small bit.”

 

She scoffed and rolled her eyes. “Sure, sure. I could only get so far on my own, though. You helped a lot more than you let yourself take credit for. You have to let me pay you something. Or at least treat you to a drink. You don’t have one yet, right?”

 

Castiel shook his head. “No, I was waiting until you got here. I didn’t want to drink it all before you came.”

 

Jess grabbed his hand, standing and leading him to the counter. “Well, I’m buying your coffee, then! What do you want, Castiel?”

 

He gave a small laugh under his breath. “It really was all your studying, but if you insist, I’m not going to complain. I usually get chai tea.” He looked up at the counter and immediately slowed his steps.

 

The man behind the counter was stunning. His hair was shining bronze in the afternoon sun and the standard green apron made his green eyes pop. He was standing behind the register, waiting on them to get there with a big smile. Cas tilted his head slightly, confused at the giant grin being directed their way.

 

Jess smiled at Cas again and let go of his hand as they reached the counter. “A chai tea it is!” She turned to the barista, smile still in place, “Hello! I’d-- Dean?”

 

The handsome man behind the counter laughed. “Hey, Jess! How’s it goin’?”

 

She laughed through her greeting. “Hey, Dean! I didn’t know you worked here! I would’ve come in more often. Gotta take advantage of that friends and family discount.”

 

He shook his head with a grin. “Nah, it’s new. I was just hired a few days ago. I’ve been told I make good coffee, though, so don’t try to pull any ‘re-do’ stunts or anything.” He pointed a playfully threatening finger at her. “By the way, who’s your friend? I saw you holding his hand, I need a name to tell Sam who he lost you to.” He winked at Castiel.

 

Dean laughed a lot. And smiled. Castiel liked it.

 

Jessica giggled back. “Sam doesn’t need to worry. Dean, this is my friend Castiel Novak. He’s the one responsible for me acing my theology midterm!” She smiled at Castiel again. “You remember by boyfriend, Sam, right?” Castiel nodded. “This is his brother, Dean Winchester.”

 

“Hey, Castiel.” Dean said his name slowly, like he was testing it out, and then smiled at him. Castiel felt his cheeks warm at the direct attention, but didn’t let himself linger on it.

 

“Hello, Dean.” Castiel chuckled at the look on Dean’s face.

 

“Man, I was not expecting that voice out of you.” Dean’s look of surprise quickly turned into amusement.

 

“Yes, I know.” Castiel nodded at the man. “No one ever is. I’ve gotten some… interesting responses, to say the least.”

 

“I’ll bet.” He laughs, “Anyway, I should actually do my job.” Dean lifted his hands to the register, ready to punch in their orders. “What’ll it be, guys?”

 

“I’m treating my savior to a drink for his help, so it’ll just be one order,” Jess explained. “I’ll have a grande peppermint mocha and Castiel would like a chai tea.”

 

“What size?” Dean asked, a small wrinkle between his scrunched eyebrows as he slowly typed in the order, obviously not yet used to the system.

 

“A grande is fine, thank you.” Castiel told him.

 

“Okay…” he poked at a few more buttons, tongue peeking out of the corner of his mouth, before a number flashed on the readout. “That’ll be $9.52.” Dean looked up with an air of triumph.

 

Castiel gave him a small smile. His pride at his little achievement was cute. Dean met his eyes and gave him a grin.

 

Jess held up her debit card and Dean’s face fell. She laughed at his glare. “Not an expert at the card reader, yet?”

 

“No,” he grumbled, looking at the register again, searching for the right keys. “Would it kill you to pay with cash?”

 

“Hey, my boss does direct deposits into my bank account.” She shrugged. “I never have any actual money on hand.” She looked at Castiel. “Do you ever have cash?”

 

Castiel shook his head, “No, my boss does the same thing. I use my card for everything.” He gave a sympathetic look to Dean. “Sorry.”

 

Dean rolled his eyes but let it drop. He tapped a few buttons, “Okay… you can swipe your card now?”

 

She raised her eyebrow. “Was that a question?”

 

“… No?”

 

She swiped her card and the machine chirped.

 

“Ha!” Dean beamed. “I did it right!”

 

Jess giggled as she put in her PIN. “Good job!”

 

Castiel laughed under his breath and smiled at the barista. “Good work.”

 

Dean preened a bit before laughing it off. “I’ll get faster after a few more days. If you guys want to go sit down, I’ll call your names when I’m done with your drinks.”

 

Jessica looked around. The room was nearly empty. There was a nervous looking man in the back corner and an Asian kid spread over two tables by the windows, but the rest of the room was barren. “Everyone’s gone home for fall break, Dean. There’s like two other guys in here. I’m pretty sure you can just say our order. Or just say ‘Hey, guys’.”

 

Dean waved her off. “Yeah, but where’s the fun in that? Don’t you want to hear your name called out?” He looked at Castiel with an imploring face.

 

“Sure.” Castiel croaked, unable to think straight with the green eyes holding him in place. And after all, he would like to hear Dean say his name again.

 

“Good!” Dean grinned. “Then it’s settled!” He clapped his hands before turning to the coffee machines.

 

Jess gave Castiel a calculating look as they moved towards their table. He ducked his head a little and felt himself blush, but sat down and tried to act normal.

 

“So,” he coughed, “How did your other midterms go?”

 

“… Fine.” She let it go, but gave him a look at clearly said _we’re talking about this later_. “How about yours?”

 

“They went well.” Castiel smiled gratefully. “How is your job at the comic book store?”

 

“It’s great! The owner’s a woman named Charlie, and she’s so cool!” Jessica gushed. “There’s a huge TV in the kid’s corner that just plays, like, Batman and other comic book cartoons all day. I can see it from the counter, and it helps pass the time when business is slow. She has Star Trek, Star Wars, Doctor Who, Harry Potter, you name it, she’s got it all over the place! It’s so colorful!” She smiled. “And, she’s super understanding if I ever have to call in or if I’m late. I’m really glad I got this job.”        

 

Castiel chuckled at her enthusiasm and happiness. “It sounds amazing.”

 

“It is! Are you sick of your job, yet? I know you’ve only worked there for a few weeks, but if you want I can always ask Charlie about an opening.” She offered.

 

Castiel shook his head. “No, thank you. My job is great. I like working at the bookstore.” He smiled softly. “It’s a small place, but it’s fantastic. It’s run by this woman, Mary, and it’s cozy. There are armchairs, a wonderful children’s section, and most of the customers are polite.”

 

“Well, I’m glad we both have good jobs! It sucks to be stuck in a job you can’t stand just to pay the rent.” They shared a smile.

 

“Jess! Castiel!” Dean called from the pick-up counter.

 

Jessica rolled her eyes at the call and at Castiel’s resulting smile, but stood up, walking with Castiel to the drinks.

 

“See?” Dean asked, leaning on the counter. “Wasn’t that more fun than me calling out ‘one peppermint mocha and one chai tea’?”

 

Jess narrowed her eyes at him. “You can pretend that that was for our benefit all you want, Dean, but we both know that was all for you.”

 

“Now, Jess, that hurts.” Dean protested, but his eyes twinkled. “Why on Earth would you say such things?”

 

“The truth must out, my friend.” She picked up her drink, taking a cautious sip. “Your coffee IS pretty good, though, so I’ll let it slide.”

 

“Told ya.” Dean winked at her. “What about you, Castiel?” He turned to Castiel, a small smile in place. “What do you think? I haven’t had any chai tea orders yet, so you get to be the first judge.”

 

Castiel carefully picked up the cup, feeling the temperature as best as he could through the cardboard. He slowly took a sip, happily surprised it was warm enough to be pleasant but not hot enough to scald. “It’s good.”  He smiled down at the counter, avoiding eye contact. “Also, thank you for pronouncing my name right. Most people forget how to say it by the time they call it out.” He gave Dean a small mock toast, ears burning at his own awkwardness.

 

“I’m glad you like it,” Dean’s smile dimmed. “But the name thing must suck. I’m sorry it gets messed up so much.”

 

Castiel shrugged, taking a drink of his tea. “I’m used to it. It’s not a big deal, but it was nice for someone to get it right.”

 

“I’ll bet.” Dean grimaced sympathetically.

 

“Well, Dean, it was nice talking to you,” Jess said, “but you should probably get back to work.” She nodded over to the register, where a man was waiting patiently.

 

“You’re right,” he nodded to Castiel, “It was nice meeting you, Castiel. Jess, you still comin’ to dinner tomorrow?”

 

“Yup! Wouldn’t give up a chance for Mary’s cooking!”

 

Dean chuckled as he started walking to the customer. “See you then!”

 

Castiel turned to Jess. “Did you say Mary?”

 

She led him back to their table. “Yeah, Dean and Sam’s mom name is Mary. Her cooking is to die for.” She made an appreciative sound.

 

Castiel hummed in thought as he sat down. “I wonder if it’s a coincidence that Dean’s mother and my boss have the same name.”

 

Jess looked considering. “I think it is? It’s a pretty common name, and I don’t think Sam has mentioned anything about a bookstore before. He probably would have said something if his mother owned one, you know?”

 

“You’re right. Ah, well,” he dismissed it. “They’re probably not the same person. I’m being silly.”

 

“That would’ve been so great, though.” Jessica laughed.

 

Castiel just smiled, but secretly agreed. If the Winchester boys’ mother and his boss were the same Mary, he’d have had more chances to see Dean.

 

* * *

 

He looked at the cup when he got home, after talking with Jessica for a while at Starbucks. Dean had written his name in solid letters, and, amazingly, he had spelled it correctly just from hearing it. Castiel smiled and ran his thumb over the Sharpie. He hoped Dean would be working the next time he went for a drink.

  

* * *

 

Winter break was not his favorite vacation, Cas decided, leaning against the register at work. Sure, he didn’t have to do any homework for a few weeks, but the mind-numbing boredom sort of ruined that reward. Mary had let him work more hours after he had told her that he wasn’t going home for the holidays, but there were still his days off and long nights alone in his apartment with nothing to do. Yesterday he had spent over an hour attempting to make chai tea as good as Dean had made, simply because he had nothing else to do. He hadn’t succeeded (but then, he hadn’t thought he would).

           

“Excuse me, uh, Ca… Caw… Cah-sty-al?”

 

Cas straightened up and put on his bright customer-service smile. The older woman looked a little angry that she needed to ask for help, and the type to complain about every second Castiel wasted not helping her find what she wanted. Castiel didn’t want to start a scene in Mary’s store, he liked the calm atmosphere here. He’d rather it stayed that way for those trying to read. “Yes, how can I help you, ma’am?”

 

After answering increasingly belligerent questions, smiling politely in response to a few pointed jabs at his names and his parents (“What could they have been thinking? A name like that…”), and walking the woman over to the cooking section, he felt justified in sitting behind the register and laying his head down on the counter.

 

“You could have told her to leave, you know.” Mary’s voice came from behind him. She sounded amused, but he could hear the edge of anger. “I would’ve supported you. She was being incredibly rude and belligerent.” She walked up next to him and rested a motherly hand on his shoulder. Her wavy blonde hair looked as soft as it had the day she hired him, and her eyes shined with concern.

 

Castiel raised his head and sent her a weak smile. “It wasn’t a problem. Everyone has to deal with rude customers at some point. We can’t kick them all out or you’d never make any money.”

 

Mary squeezed his shoulder but let her hand drop. She sighed, “True, but that doesn’t mean it’s ever a fun experience. Did you straighten up the children’s area?”

 

Castiel nodded. “The romance and cooking sections, too. I should just have to do a final walkthrough after closing.”

 

“You can head out early, if you want to, hon.” Mary gave him a kind smile. “I can do the closing stuff just fine. I’m sure you’d like to go home after dealing with her.”

           

Castiel nodded gratefully. “I’d like that, if you’re sure you’ll be alright.”

 

She rolled her eyes and waved a dismissive hand. “You’re only leaving ten minutes early. Besides, I ran this place by myself for a long while before you got here, Castiel. It’ll be fine. Go,” She shooed him away playfully.

 

He smiled at her gratefully as he grabbed his bag from underneath the counter and logged out of the register. “Thank you, Mary.” He shrugged on his coat quickly.

 

“Don’t thank me yet!” She called as he opened the door, bell ringing cheerfully. “You still have a double shift on Friday!”

 

“I’m looking forward to it!” He laughed, the door swinging closed behind him. He walked down the street, hiding his hands from the chill in his pockets. He could go home. Or… he could go to the campus Starbucks and see if Dean was working. He rubbed his hand against the inside of his pocket. He could use a warm drink, his throat felt kind of scratchy today… and he couldn’t make his tea as good as Dean’s…

 

Castiel redirected his footsteps to lead to Starbucks, hoping Dean was on shift.

  

* * *

 

When Cas reached the café, Dean was behind the counter, but it didn’t look like he’d be able to talk. Castiel wasn’t the only one wanting a drink; the place was absolutely packed, a long line wrapping around the floor. A dark-haired girl was running the register, tapping away much quicker than Dean had been the other day. Dean had been assigned to making all of the drinks, by the way he was flitting around behind the counter. Castiel smiled to himself at Dean’s controlled panic, obviously overwhelmed but managing well. Waiting patiently in line, he watched as Dean moved his hands fluidly over the machines, quickly scribbled names on cups, and yelled to be heard over the crowd. His hair was messier than last time, like he’d been running his hands through it in panic every free moment. Castiel smiled to himself at the thought.

 

The woman at the counter was polite and looked much more accustomed to the rush than Dean. She smiled at Castiel as he stepped forward. He could see the relief in her eyes at his simple order, and smiled back thankfully when she wrote down his name without any laughter or judgement. He decided to tip her a little more than usual. She could probably use it, he thought, taking long, complicated orders all day.

 

He walked to the other counter to wait, hoping it wouldn’t take too long. He really was feeling drained from work. He glanced back up at Dean and froze when his eyes met shining green ones.

 

Dean grinned at him and waved with a Sharpie-holding hand before looking down at the ticket and writing a name on the cup.

 

“Alfie!” He called, clicking the Sharpie and hooking it on his apron. Alfie took his cup with a bright smile and cheerful nod, thankfully blocking Castiel from Dean’s line of sight for a few moments. His ears felt hot.

 

Castiel pulled out his phone to distract himself, texting Jess about the vacation. She was very disappointed that classes resumed in a few days, unlike Castiel. She had spent nearly all break with her boyfriend, apparently, and didn’t want that to end. He assured her that Sam would no doubt text her as often as humanly possible, and they could always meet up.

 

“Castiel!”

 

Cas nearly dropped his phone. He looked around for the friend calling his name, cocking his head when he didn’t see anyone.

 

“Drink for Castiel!”

 

Oh. He blushed and walked up to the counter. Dean was grinning at him, looking amused. Castiel was relieved to see that his smile was kind, at least. More like the “laughing with you” feeling than the “laughing at you” kind.

 

“Sorry,” Castiel ducked his head a little, reaching for the cup. “I’m not used to it sounding…” He trailed off, trying to find a nice way of wording it. Dean had remembered his name. And how to pronounce it. _Correctly_.

 

“Correct?” Dean supplied, still grinning. His smile slid off and suddenly, he looked concerned. “Wait, that was right, right? Cas-tee-ell?”

 

Cas nodded, looking at the cup to avoid eye contact. “Yes, you’re correct. Um.” He glanced up and back down immediately, embarrassingly red-faced. “Thank you for remembering.”

 

“Yeah, ‘course, man.” Dean looked like he wanted to keep talking, glancing regretfully at the huge stack of orders to fill. He sighed. “Well, better get back to the grind.” He looked delighted at his pun, smiling like the sun at Cas. “See you later?” Castiel hoped he was actually hearing the hope in Dean’s voice and not just imagining it.

 

Castiel nodded, awkwardly taking a step backward. “Yes. I, um,” he took a deep breath. “Yes.”

 

“Cool.” Dean smiled at him again before turning away.

 

Castiel walked home, alternatively running his thumb over the Sharpie letters and cursing himself for being an idiot.

  

* * *

 

Castiel walked into Starbucks, struggling to fix his scarf. He finally got to lie how he wanted as he reached the counter. He looked up, only to be met by a handsome barista with amusement in his green eyes.

                     

“Hey, Castiel.” Dean said. “Is your scarf trying to strangle you?”

 

Castiel stared at him for a moment. Dean had remembered him. He had remembered his name without reading it from a receipt.

 

“Um…” It sounded like he had gravel coating his vocal cords. Castiel cleared his throat, ears burning. “Hello, Dean. Yes, it seems like it might be. Although the wind almost blew it away, so I suppose it was the better alternative.” He rasped. “At least this way I get to keep it.”

 

Dean chuckled, but his eyebrows creased. “I guess so. How are you?” He looked concerned. “I remember your voice being deep, but not that gravelly. You don’t sound too hot.”

 

Castiel shook his head, pausing to cough before he replied. “Unfortunately, I seem to have caught a cold.” He winced at the pain in his throat.

 

“That sucks, man,” Dean said sympathetically. “Do you want your chai tea to be a little hotter than normal today? It might feel better on your throat.”

 

Oh. Dean had remembered his order, too. Castiel was unable to stop the full-on blush that took over his face. He ducked his head a bit, hiding in his scarf. “Yes, that would be nice.”

 

“Alright.” Dean smiled softly at him. “So, a hot grande chai tea?” His fingers flew over the screen much faster than before.

 

“Yes, please,” Castiel said hoarsely.

 

“It’ll be $3.50.”

 

Castiel tilted his head to the side, confused. “Isn’t that a little low? It’s usually $4.25.”

 

Dean shrugged, smiling. “Friends and family discount.”

 

“Oh,” Castiel said softly, pulling his debit card out of his wallet. Dean thought of him as a friend. Cas suddenly felt warm and hid his smile in his scarf. “Thank you, Dean.”

 

“No problem, Cas.” Dean winked, hitting the buttons to bring up the card payment. “You can swipe your card now.”

 

“Cas?”

 

Dean blinked. “Oh, yeah, sorry, it just slipped out. Bad habit, I guess. I give everybody nicknames. Sammy, Jess, you know.” He gave Castiel another concerned look. “Is it okay if I call you Cas?”

 

“Yes.” Cas replied, looking down, purposely breaking eye contact to swipe his card. It was more than okay. He had a small smile on his face as he keyed in his PIN. “It’s perfectly fine.”

 

Cas finished paying and walked to a barstool, trying very hard not to trip and embarrass himself. He sat down at the bar next to the counter, facing Dean. He wanted to talk to the man more. Dean was cheerful and incredibly nice.

 

Cas set his bag down on the stool beside him and opened it. He sniffled, rooting around to try and locate a tissue in the bottom. Going from the cold outside to the warm interior of the store was making his nose run like crazy. Snot was not attractive. And besides trying to look attractive, he just felt gross and wanted to be able to breathe through his nose.

 

“Hey, Cas!”

 

Castiel looked up just in time to see a small to-go pack of Kleenex plop on the counter in front of him.

 

Dean winked. “Former boy scout. Always prepared.” He laughed at himself and turned back to the machines.

 

Castiel smiled at his thoughtfulness. “Thank you, Dean.”

 

“No prob, Cas.”

 

He picked up the packet and pulled out a Kleenex, turning away from the counter to try and blow his nose as discreetly as possible. It still sounded horribly loud in the nearly deserted café, and it ended with him coughing roughly, but at least he could breathe now. Kind of. “Hey, Dean?”

 

Dean threw him a glance and a smile as his hands tinkered with the machines. “Yeah, Cas, what’s up?”

 

“Would you mind watching my bag for a moment?” He grimaced at his germy hands, one still holding the dirty tissue. “I’d really like to wash my hands now but I don’t want my laptop or anything stolen.”

 

Dean nodded as he slid a cardboard sleeve on an empty cup. “Yeah, ’course.” He held out his hand over the counter. “If you’re really worried, I can keep it back here for a minute. Not technically allowed,” he rolled his eyes, “But it’s, like, two minutes and there’s no one else working who’ll rat us out.” He winked, hand still outstretched.

 

Castiel gave him a soft smile and carefully handed over his messenger bag, feeling his cheeks warm. “As long as you’re sure I’m not getting you in trouble. Thank you, Dean.”

 

Dean bent and tucked the bag under the counter with one hand, waving the other dismissively. “Don’t worry about it, Cas,” He straightened and playfully shooed Castiel off of his barstool. “Now go decontaminate, we don’t need an epidemic starting. Especially not while I’m on shift.”

 

Castiel chuckled quietly as he slid off the seat, the sound raspy. “I doubt it’ll cause much harm, it’s just a cold.”

 

Dean leaned back dramatically, raising his hand in a pose like a bad Shakespearian actor. “I can see the headlines now! ‘Local Barista Brings Zombie Apocalypse! Experts Say Bad Handwashing Habits to Blame!’”

 

Castiel shook his head but smiled. “How about, ‘Local Barista Floods Store. Caused by Lack of Attention, Experts Say.’”

 

“Nah, that’s too long to be a good headline.” Dean scoffed. “Also, I doubt you can flood the entire store by not paying attention when you wash your hands. There’s a drain in the bathroom floor for that.”

 

“Dean,” Castiel rolled his eyes, “I wasn’t talking about me.” He pointed behind Dean.

 

Dean furrowed his eyebrows before turning around and cursing loudly. He hadn’t been paying attention to the machines and the coffee cup had overflowed, spilling hot water over the counter and in a growing puddle in the floor. He rushed over to shut off the machine.

 

Castiel laughed as he turned to walk to the bathroom, throwing the used tissue in a trash can on the way and ignoring the grumbled curses behind him. The door swung shut and he walked to the sinks, washing his hands thoroughly. As he tried to dry his hands with the sub-par paper towels, Cas caught his reflection in the mirror and leaned forward, frowning slightly. His face was redder than it should be. He brushed a hand across his forehead, pushing his hair back and feeling the temperature there. It felt a little warm.

 

He ignored it and turned to throw the wad of paper towels away. It was probably just from being around Dean, he reasoned. He usually blushed more around the man.

 

Cas regained his seat at the counter, smiling to himself at Dean’s put-out expression.

 

“You,” Dean pointed, with the hand that wasn’t holding up a mop, “could have told me about that before it spilled over.” He seemed more amused than upset by the incident.

 

Castiel hummed acknowledgement. “I could have.”

 

Dean continued to grumble with mock severity as he mopped. “After everything I do for you, kindheartedly gifting you tissues from my own personal emergency stash, _selflessly_ protecting your laptop from random coffeehouse strangers,” he leaned the mop against the back wall, throwing Cas a teasing glare as he started over on the drink. “Even using my precious friends and family discount on you! I should make you give me that 75 cents.” He grinned at Cas to show that he was joking.

 

“You should.” Castiel agreed, nodding solemnly. “I deserve to pay you back for this wrong I have committed.” He smiled down at the counter, leaning his elbows against it. “Unfortunately, unless you have a card reader for your cell phone, I am woefully unable to pay you back for this atrocity.” He looked up at Dean, laughing quietly to himself at the man’s concentrated stare at the cup. It was not going to overflow this time, that much was for sure. “No cash, remember? I only have a debit card.” He coughed roughly into his elbow.

 

Dean sighed loudly as he turned off the water, “I suppose, if you truly cannot pay with money, you could repay your debt another way.” He grinned as he sat down the completed drink in front of Castiel, leaning his elbows against the counter in a mirror of Cas’ position. “Drink for Castiel.”

 

Castiel smiled and raised his eyebrow, taking a slow sip of the tea. He closed his eyes and sighed for a moment. The heat really did feel wonderful on his raw throat. Calming. “What did you have in mind?” He opened his eyes to see Dean watching him intently, eyes narrowed. “Dean?”

 

“Sorry, just,” Dean muttered, raising his hand to brush Cas’ hair back, his fingertips resting gently against the man’s forehead. “Are you sure you’re okay, man? You look flushed. And you feel a little warm.”

 

Castiel blushed hard at the sudden attention and Dean’s cool fingers against his skin. “It’s just a cold.” He replied quietly, not really answering the question.

 

Dean hummed, looking thoughtful, but withdrew his hand.

 

Castiel fought the irrational urge to grab Dean’s wrist and put his hand back. He ducked his head into his elbow as he coughed again.

 

“Um,” Castiel began, embarrassed at his own scattered thoughts, “would you mind handing me my bag? I need to get a couple pages of my paper done before work.”

 

Dean still looked concerned, but gave Cas his bag back. “Are you sure you’re good to work? You’re really worrying me here, Castiel.”

 

Cas ignored the shiver he got when Dean said his full name. He nodded his thanks and gave Dean a small smile. “I’m really fine, Dean. If it makes you feel better, I work at a small bookstore, it’s not incredibly strenuous work.” He took out his laptop and pressed the power button, glancing at Dean’s still-worried face as it booted up.

 

“Do you have any plans for tomorrow?” Dean asked abruptly.

 

“No,” Cas responded, too quickly. He blushed and coughed, as much to hide his embarrassment as to clear his lungs. He took a couple of deep breaths. “I don’t have any plans.”

 

“Good.” Dean pointed an authoritative finger at him. “Take some cold medicine before you go to bed and take it easy tomorrow.” He sounded motherly. “You don’t want to be passing out or starting epidemics.”

 

It reminded Castiel of Mary, oddly, and he smothered his smile at the comparison. “Alright,” he agreed softly. It felt nice to be cared for, even if it was just in passing, from a friend of a friend. He pushed away the twinge of hurt that thought awarded him. Dean thought of him as a friend, right? He had used his “friends and family” discount, after all.

 

“Good.” Dean brought back the sunny grin. “So what class is the paper for? If you don’t mind answering, I mean. I’ll understand if you want to write, I’ll just…” He rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly, cutting himself off.

 

“Oh, no, it’s fine.” Cas told him. As cute as nervous Dean was, he didn’t want to make the man feel unwanted. “It’s just for a lower-level English class. I’m not sure what program I’m going for yet, so I’m working on getting all the basic classes out of the way.”

 

Dean’s smile returned, and Castiel was happy that he could put it there. He still looked worried, but was masking it pretty well. “No shame in not knowing yet. It took my mom a few years before she figured out what she wanted to do. It’s better to decide later and know for sure than to pick something early just to get it out of the way, you know? What’s the paper supposed to be about?”

 

Castiel smiled quietly at Dean’s assurances and took another soothing drink of his tea. “Our interpretation of a work. It’s theme, diction, symbolism, and all of those things.” He opened a new document on his computer. “It’s nothing dreadfully exciting.” He coughed again, his already weak voice waning from overuse.

 

Dean looked concerned again, but obviously decided to stop prodding. “If you say so, man. I’ll let you work. I’ll be right here. If you need anything let me know, alright?”

 

Castiel nodded. His throat hurt. His head was starting to hurt, too. He really should get some cold medicine before tonight.

 

Castiel typed for a long while, the steady click-clacking of his fingers on the keys melding softly with Dean’s distracted humming. A few more people came in for drinks, but the cold wind was obviously keeping most of them away.

 

His eyes started getting fuzzy and his headache steadily worsened. Eventually he stopped typing, rubbing his eyes with the heels of his hands and leaning forward, resting for a moment. He felt a warm palm on his shoulder, gently comforting.

 

“Hey, Cas.” Dean sounded really worried, he noticed faintly. “I made you some herbal tea, okay? I put a lot of honey in it, so it should feel really good on your throat.” Cas heard the clink of a cup set down in front of him. “Hey, look at me.” He said softly.

 

Castiel opened his eyes and let his hands fall to the counter, blinking blearily at the man in front of him.

 

“You’re really making me worry, here, dude.” Dean peered into his eyes like he’d be able to see any viruses swimming inside.

 

Castiel blinked a few times to clear his vision and smiled at Dean. “I’m really fine.” He carefully picked up the mug in front of him, trying to minimize any accidents or spills. His fingers felt oddly clumsy and thick. “I have to work tonight.”

 

He didn’t, not really. He had enough to pay rent and scrape by on groceries, even if he would have to eat a bit more Ramen than last month. Mary was nice, she’d understand. But he couldn’t go back to his apartment. His empty, cold apartment.

 

His mind was suddenly flooded with childhood memories. Castiel, sick and alone in a house that felt too big, even now, when he went back to visit as an adult. A place that was always just a house, never really a home. It was too cold for that, too full of emptiness, stuffed to the spotless ceilings with smothering, suffocating silence. He remembers being a little boy, sweating from fever and shivering from fear. The white walls echoing his stares, the empty hallways resounding with dead air. His whimpers went unheard, his mother too busy to tend to a sick child. She sent the housekeeper with food and medicine, but the housekeeper never liked him. A messy child in a house with white walls, carpets, curtains. The source of never-ending messes to clean and laundry to bleach. She left as soon as she had made sure he hadn’t died. And Castiel was left alone, a scared child in a spotless house.

 

Dean’s face came back into focus, and he looked somehow even more anxious than before. His hand still rested on Cas’ shoulder, a calm, comforting weight. “I have to work tonight.” Cas repeated. He took a long drink of the tea. Dean was right, it took the edge off of the burning pain in his throat. Cas looked up at Dean. “I’ll take cold medicine tonight and sleep all day tomorrow, okay?” He wasn’t sure why he felt the need to comfort Dean, but he did. “Don’t be so worried.” He managed a half smile.

 

Dean didn’t look like he was going to follow that order. Dean looked like he was going to smash that order to pieces. He raised his other hand, resting it on Cas’ forehead. “Cas,” he said softly, “You’re burning up. You need to sleep. Call in to work, okay? Tell your boss you’re sick. I get off in ten minutes. Let me drive you home.”

 

Cas closed his eyes at the feeling of Dean’s cool hand against his skin. It was tempting. So tempting. But… “No, Dean.” He didn’t open his eyes, not wanting to see the pinch of frustration he’s sure Dean’s eyes would be showing right now. “Thank you for the offer, but I have to go to work.”

 

Dean huffed. “If you say so, dude. Your boss should be impressed by your determination.” His hand was growing warmer, absorbing heat from Castiel’s flushed skin. “You’d better come in on my next shift, though, and show me you’re alive.”

 

Castiel hummed an affirmative and finally opened his eyes. “Sure. You’ll have to tell me when your next shift is, though.” He glanced at his phone screen to check the time. “I have to go now, if I want to be on time.” Dean’s eyes, green and gold, worry and anxiety, stared back. Castiel broke the eye contact, packing up his laptop carefully.

 

“Hey,” Dean’s voice still sounded concerned, but he managed to trim the edges with humor. “I know how you can pay me back for your grave misdeeds today.”

 

“Oh?” Castiel said lightly, brain a little foggy. “How’s that?” He coughed again as he stood from the stool, preparing to leave.

 

“Give me your number.”

 

Castiel blinked slowly.

 

“How else am I supposed to tell you my next shift? I don’t want to make you late for work. This way, you’ll know, and I can rest assured that you’ll know when to come in and show me proof that you weren’t taken out by the cold from hell.” Dean joked.

 

“Um,” Castiel blushed through the fever flush. He hoped Dean used it for other things as well. He liked talking to Dean. He was funny, witty, and caring, Cas could already tell from their limited interactions. He would really like to get to know Dean better. “Yeah. Okay.”

  

* * *

 

 

His shift was almost over.

 

It wasn’t. He was trying to trick his brain into believing it, trying to push himself through until he could get home. No matter how much he didn’t want to go there, either.

 

It was a mantra he was repeating to himself. It was what would get him through the next few hours.

 

His shift was almost over.

 

He had abandoned his scarf long ago, feeling too hot. He began sweating, and every time he ran his hand through his hair if felt wetter.

 

The tea had felt so wonderful on his throat, but the warmth had worn off on the walk to the store. His throat was so rough, he felt like he had swallowed carpet and it had given him rug burn all the way down. Burning pain, worsened with every swallow.

 

His shift was almost over.

 

He tried to stay behind the counter as much as possible, leaning heavily on it. He smiled at the customers, helped them find things, and immediately retreated to what was increasingly feeling like his “safe space”.

 

He was trying to convince himself that the mess the last patron had left in the cooking section would be easier to clean up now than it would be in an hour. He wasn’t really succeeding.

 

His shift was almost over.

 

“Castiel!” He heard Mary shout from the back room. “Could you please move these boxes to the front and start shelving? And be careful, they’re a little heavy!”

 

“Yeah!” He called back, immediately regretting the decision. Burning discomfort had turned sharp, a heat blister burst open. He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to ride out the wave of pain.

 

His shift was almost over. His shift was almost over.

 

“Thank you,” her voice neared the doorway. “They’ve been in the back for a while now, so I thought—“ She walked through and immediately cut herself off. “Castiel, you look awful, are you alright?”

 

He nodded, unwilling to speak on the heels of the recent agony.

 

Mary, if anything, looked more concerned. “Honey, you look like you’re about to keel over any second. I think you need to go.” She reached out and felt his forehead, an odd mirror of Dean. Castiel missed him, strange as that was. Dean was nice, and he let Cas be quiet around him. Cas wanted to be quiet. Unfortunately, Mary was clucking her tongue at the temperature she felt. “Definitely a fever. You’re burning up. You need to sleep. You’re going home.”

 

Castiel geared himself up for another round of “I’m fine’s” before sighing in defeat. Screw it. He really wanted to go home, no matter how hollow it was. At least at home he could lie down. “Okay.”

 

His shift was over.

 

He sagged to the counter, finally allowing himself the luxury to do more than lean.

 

“Here,” Mary dragged a folding chair from the back room and pointed at it sternly. “Sit.”

 

Castiel sat. He put his arms on the counter and laid his head down.

 

“Now, I’m calling my son.” Cas heard the rustling as Mary pulled her cell out of her pocket. “I’m not going to let you walk home with a fever in this wind. I know it might be a little awkward to be in the car with a stranger, but I raised my boys to be gentlemen. He’ll get you home safe and sound, and he’ll call to let me know not to look through the obituaries for you.”

 

Castiel didn’t say anything, struggling to stay awake now that he had let himself relax. Mary was on a roll anyway, and she was stubborn at the best of times. Nothing he could say would change her mind regardless. He drifted in and out of awareness as Mary called her son. Cas hoped he was nice. Mary was a good woman, her son was probably polite, at the least. Hopefully.

 

“Could you come down to the shop… one of my employees… fever… don’t feel right in letting him… needs a ride home… know his address? Well…”

 

Castiel moved his arms apart and let his forehead rest on the cool counter. He hoped that when he stood up he didn’t leave a damp spot from his sweat, that would be pretty gross. Actually, thinking about it, he hoped that he _could_ stand up. He was feeling pretty shaky now, and he was so tired.

 

“Okay… See you in a few minutes.” Mary hung up and pocketed her phone. Castiel shook himself in an attempt to fully absorb what she was about to say.

 

“Okay, sweetie, he’s on his way. Don’t worry about those boxes, I’ll get him to come move them after he drops you off. Just worry about getting better, alright? Do you have your bag and everything you need before he gets here?”

 

Castiel lifted his head with difficultly. It felt incredibly heavy. “Yes.” He ground out. He reached up with shaky fingers and carefully logged himself out of the register. He pulled his bag from under the counter and set it on his lap, wrapping his arms around it like a favorite stuffed animal and thunking his head back down on the counter.

 

She slowly rubbed large circles onto his back. It was a weird sensation, Castiel decided. It was oddly comforting and soothing, but it was entirely unfamiliar. He wondered if every mother did this for their kids. Well, every mother besides his own. “You’re not going to pass out on me, are you?” She sounded like she was trying to joke, but the words belied her actual concern. Castiel really thought she should meet Dean; they were so similar.

 

Castiel shook his head against the counter. Well… that was a lot of spinning for just a shake of his head. Castiel hummed and changed his answer to a shrug.

 

“Alright, sweetheart. You can rest if you want to, okay? I’ll wake you up when he gets here. Do you want to go to the beanbag in the young adult section to nap?”

 

It was probably better for his back to sleep in a beanbag than hunched over a counter, and he would probably fall off of the folding chair at some point, if he didn’t move. The beanbag was safer. Castiel nodded and slowly sat up. He coughed, groaning at the pain it caused his throat.

 

He slowly stood, leaning heavily on the counter. Mary supported him from the other side and across the open area to the young adult section. He was dimly surprised by her strength, he wasn’t exactly small, but didn’t comment. He sat heavily and immediately curled up as small as possible on his side in the beanbag, still clutching his messenger bag like a teddy bear.

 

“Go ahead and nap, Castiel, you have a few minutes. He had just gotten home from work, so he had to get ready to leave again. I’m going to look in the back and see if I might have anything for a cold or fever in my desk. I’ll wake you up to take it if I do, okay?”  
           

Castiel nodded approval, hoping he wasn’t wiping his sweat on the material. He’d pay to clean it when he was better.

 

He fell asleep, waking up once to painfully swallow the teal pills Mary found. He hoarsely thanked her, for the pills and for everything. She smiled and pushed his hair off of his forehead.

 

“It’s not a problem, Castiel. You’re an excellent employee and a good man. You know, I have two boys of my own, around your age, and when they get sick they’re completely reliant on whoever they can be.” She winked at him. “The big babies always beg me for my tomato and rice soup.”

 

Cas smiled at her as she left. She was a wonderful woman. He should really bring her something nice for her birthday. People like flowers, right? He could do that. Or chocolates? Maybe Mary was more of a homemade cookies kind of person. He drifted back off thinking of all the increasingly outlandish things he could give to Mary for her birthday.

  

* * *

 

“Hey, mom! You back there?”

 

Castiel dimly recognized a voice from the front of the store. He was only half-awake and he was determined to get his other half back under. He clung stubbornly to the dream he had been having, something to do with nice baristas and pretty eyes.

 

“Yeah, ‘course, mom. Y’know, it’s weird, I know a guy who was looking pretty bad earlier, too. I hope he made it okay.” The son muttered to himself. “I’ll have to call him when I get home.”

 

“Must be going around,” Mary said. “He’s back in the young adult section, I made him nap in the beanbag. You might stop on the way to his house and get some cold medicine, in case he doesn’t have any. Better safe than sorry.”

 

“Yeah, good plan, mom,” the voice was growing closer, but Castiel was slipping back under and didn’t really care.

 

“Oh,” the son’s footsteps stopped in front of Cas. “Oh, buddy.” Castiel felt someone get closer. From the rustling, it sounded like the son had crouched. “Hey, sleepyhead. You want to wake up for me?” Castiel felt gentle fingers brush his hair back again. No, he did not want to wake up. He mumbled a little and snuggled further into the beanbag, trying to sleep again.

 

Wait, that voice sounded kind of familiar.

 

Mary’s son chuckled. “Come on, sunshine. Wake up. Let me see those pretty eyes.”

 

Castiel felt light fingers trying to gently shake him awake. He knew that laugh, too.

 

“Dean?” He mumbled, groggily opening his eyes.

 

“There he is.” Dean said, voice low and warm. “See, I told you your boss would understand.”

 

Cas squinted at him for a moment. “What are you doing here?” He rubbed his eyes and slowly uncurled his legs.

 

Dean smiled at him. “Mom called me. Said she had a worker that needed a ride home. That you?”

 

“Um,” Castiel sat up fully and hugged his bag to his chest again. “Yes.” He paused again, sleep- and fever-addled brain trying to work it out. “Mary is your mother?”

 

“She sure is,” Dean nodded. “Best mom anyone could ask for.” He smiled again. “Guess we’ll be seeing each other a lot then, huh?”

 

Castiel just nodded. His throat was aching again, and he was so tired. He sneezed, turning his head as close to his elbow as he could without letting go of his bag.

 

Dean’s smile turned soft and understanding. “Let’s get you home, alright? Once you get some medicine in you, you can sleep all you want.”

 

Castiel nodded again. Sleep did sound nice. He was still sweating a lot and his head was starting to pound. He slung his bag across his body and carefully stood, trying not to topple over.

 

Dean stood smoothly and helped pull Cas to his feet, supporting him once he was upright. Cas leaned heavily on Dean, trusting Dean wouldn’t be grossed out by his sweat. He hadn’t been at the café, right? Cas tried to reason.

 

“You good?” Dean asked, still holding both of Cas’ hands.

 

Cas nodded. He regretfully withdrew his hands and swayed a little on the spot.

 

“Are you sure?” Dean peered into his eyes again. “I don’t mind helping you out. I’d rather you not pass out and hurt yourself fallin’ on somethin’.”

 

Castiel nodded. He took a couple of deep breaths before taking one step forward. His knees immediately buckled, but he managed to catch himself and keep mostly upright.

 

“Okay, no.” Dean ducked under one of Cas’ arms and supported him with an arm around his waist. “You’re not falling on my watch.”

 

Castiel’s ears burned red, but he had to admit that it was a better alternative to giving himself a fallen-bruised forehead. “Thanks.” He said hoarsely.

 

“Not a problem, man.” Dean said cheerfully, leading him into the main shop. “Hey, mom,” His voice turned softer, and Castiel could see the obvious love Dean had for his mother. “Me and Cas are going to head out, alright? We’ll stop at a Walgreen’s or something for medicine.”

 

Mary looked confused by the closeness of the two, and raised an eyebrow at the nickname. She just shook her head at her son, smiling. “Okay, sweetheart. He did take a couple NyQuil just a little bit ago, but it’ll be good to stock up. Call me once you get there, okay? Can’t have my best employee go missing.”

 

Dean snorted but nodded. “You got it. Oh, can you text me the address, by the way? I think Cas needs to rest his throat for a bit.”

 

Castiel smiled at his thoughtfulness. He turned his face into Dean’s shoulder, trying to hide his silly grin from Mary. He wasn’t so sure he succeeded.

 

“Yes, of course.” Mary walked to the door and held it open as they awkwardly made their way through. “I’ll talk to you later, Dean. Castiel, get some rest, okay, hon?”

 

Castiel nodded to her. She walked back inside, probably to get her phone and text Dean his address.

 

They walked up next to the passenger door of a gorgeous black car. Cas didn’t know what year it was, but it was obviously an older car. And lovingly cared for, looking at the shine. Cas would’ve complimented it if he didn’t feel like his throat would bleed if he tried to speak. Dean held onto Castiel’s waist tighter, moving his other arm up to grab his keys out of his jacket pocket. He leaned forward slightly to unlock the door and eased it open with a small creak.

 

“Okay, here we go.” Dean muttered.

 

With Dean’s help, Castiel eased himself onto the smooth leather seats, pulling his bag’s strap over his shoulder and resting it on his lap.

 

Dean closed the passenger door gently and walked over to the driver’s side. The door creaked as he opened it and slid inside. He closed the door and started the engine in one smooth motion. “Alright, Cas. I should get mom’s text in a minute, but can you point in a general direction for me? We can hit a Walgreen’s on the way.”

 

Castiel lifted his hand and pointed the way he usually walked to work before wrapping it tightly around his bag. He didn’t know why holding his bag brought him comfort, but he wasn’t about to overthink it. “Would it be okay if I took a nap?” He whispered. The NyQuil Mary had given him was really hitting him hard. Cas was having trouble keeping his eyes open.

 

“Yeah, buddy.” Dean said softly. “That’s fine. I’ll run in and grab stuff when we get there. Do you have anything you want besides the cold medicine?”

 

Castiel shook his head and leaned it against the window. The engine noise was strangely comforting, the low rumble promising safety from silence.

 

“Okay. Get some rest if you can.”

 

Castiel hummed. He felt a brush against his stomach and opened his eyes to see Dean reaching across and fastening his lap belt.

 

“Safety first.” Dean muttered, leaning back.

 

“Former boy scout thing?” Cas managed to whisper.

 

Dean grinned at him, relief in his smile. “‘Course.”

 

Castiel noticed that Dean didn’t fasten his own belt before reaching for the gear shift. He vaguely wondered if that meant anything as his eyes slid shut again.

 

“Sorry there’s no shoulder belts,” Dean said, reversing out of the parking space.

 

Castiel blinked his tired eyes open to look at Dean. His mother had always been very strict about looking at someone when they were speaking, and it was a hard habit to break.

 

“Baby’s a classic and I don’t want to change anything about her.” He grinned roguishly as he drove in the direction Cas had pointed.

 

Castiel hummed again in understanding. His eyes slipped closed. He knew it was the polite thing to do, to look at someone when they were speaking, but he was so tired. He hoped Dean would understand.

 

Dean kept talking but Castiel couldn’t catch the words. The sounds streamed through his mind, the lulling timbre of Dean’s voice, but they were waves in an ocean, holding no meaning or shape. Castiel fell asleep to the sea, buoyed by the dull roar of the engine.

 

* * *

  

“Cas?”

 

Castiel felt a hand resting on his shoulder. He mumbled something and turned his head towards the noise.

 

“Hey, bud.” Dean’s voice was soft again. Castiel liked it when Dean’s voice was soft. It made him feel nice. “Can you wake up again for me?  We’re at your place.” Castiel felt the thumb of the hand on his shoulder slowly brush back and forth.

 

“Mm?” Castiel murmured. His eyelids were incredibly heavy, but he managed to slowly drag them open. He sluggishly blinked at Dean.

 

Dean’s smile was as soft as his voice. “There he is.” He hummed. “You with me or are you still asleep?”

 

Castiel stared at Dean for a minute, trying to make his brain work. He saw that Dean was crouched by Cas’ open door before losing the battle of keeping his eyes open.

 

“Ca-as,” Dean dragged his name out. He sounded like he wanted to laugh at Castiel. Cas wished he would, he really liked Dean’s laugh. It made him want to laugh, too. “Come on.” He shook Cas’ shoulder gently. “I may look like I could carry you up ten flights of stairs, but I swear I can only do two.” His hand moved from Cas’ shoulder to brush his hair back from his forehead again. A lot of people had been doing that lately. Maybe he should get a haircut. “And from the address mom texted me, you live on the third floor.”

 

Castiel succeeded in blinking his eyes open again. “There’s ‘n elevator.” He mumbled tiredly, admiring Dean’s face as he laughed under his breath. He turned his head and coughed tiredly into his shoulder.

           

“Are you usually not a morning person or is this the NyQuil talking?” Dean asked, still chuckling as he reached across an unbuckled Cas’ seatbelt.

 

Castiel blinked down at his legs, trying to force them to move. “Both.” He managed to get one leg onto the pavement relatively okay. The second one made contact with asphalt, but it forced him to turn. He was hit with a wave of lightheadedness. He swayed, nearly falling forward onto Dean.

           

Dean caught him by his shoulders, looking exceedingly worried. “I’ll keep that in mind.” He muttered, carefully standing while holding Castiel in place. “Are you going to be okay to just sit here for a minute while I grab the bags?”

 

Castiel fought down the dizziness and grumbled affirmation. He wobbled a little bit, but stayed upright while Dean walked around to the driver’s side for the bags. The white plastic rustled loudly as it was pulled out of the car. Cas wondered why there was more than one bag. Hadn’t Dean just bought cold medicine?

 

“-tiel?”  


Castiel blinked and his eyes focused on Dean, crouched in front of him again. He looked anxious.

 

“Are you sure this is just a cold, man?” Dean felt Cas’ forehead again. “You’re burning up. You’re kind of scaring me, here.” Dean gave Cas an uncertain smile. “What would I tell Jess if her favorite tutor died on me?”

 

Castiel smiled softly. “M’okay.” He relaxed his grip on his bag and slowly reached a hand up to rub at his eyes. “Tired.” He whispered.

 

Dean’s hand moved from Cas’ forehead to his hair. He ran his fingers through the sweaty curls. It felt nice. “I know, buddy, I know,” he soothed. “You can go to sleep once you get home.” He smiled crookedly, “Come on, let’s brave this elevator of yours.”

 

Castiel nodded slowly. He clumsily pulled his shoulder strap over his head and slid closer to the door.

 

Dean stood and gave Cas some room, plastic bags in one hand. He reached out with the other to help pull him to his feet.

 

Castiel leaned his forehead against Dean’s shoulder. He fought the urge to just bury his head in the other man. He would bet it would feel lovely, just leaning against Dean while he slowly stroked Cas’ hair, but he had woken up enough to realize it wouldn’t be the best idea.

 

Dean managed to swing the passenger door shut with the hand holding the bags and turned toward the door, arm slung firmly around Cas’ waist. “You don’t need a key to the building or anything, right?”

 

Castiel shook his head as they walked. “Just the apartment.” He whispered. His voice didn’t want to go any louder.

 

Dean nodded in confirmation as he slowly supported Cas up the steps to the door. “Man, I’m glad your building has an elevator.” He said, pushing open the door and leading Cas through. “I’m not sure you could make it up three flights of stairs.” They made their way across the lobby to the elevator.

 

“I’d be fine.” Castiel protested softly, determinedly reaching out to push the elevator button. As if that showed his exceptional ability to climb stairs.

 

“Okay, man.” Dean chuckled. “I believe you.”

 

“Good.” Castiel muttered mulishly. He was a little grumpy, but he had just woken up, after all. He needed to get some coffee. Or go to sleep again, that sounded better.

 

There was a ding as the elevator arrived and the doors slid open. They walked in and turned around slowly. Cas reached forward and poked at the right button, still stubbornly trying to prove that he would’ve been fine with stairs.

 

“This elevator stinks.” Dean’s nose wrinkled.

 

“Mm,” Castiel hummed agreement as the doors slid shut. He usually took the stairs, but he had used the elevator a few times. It always smelled like an odd combination of cooking cabbage and wet dog. “I think Mrs. Pemberton on the fourth floor uses it to take her dog out for walks.” He mumbled, still pretty sleepy.

 

“Well, sure, that explains the dog smell. But why the rotten egg smell?” Dean gently shook the arm that was supporting Cas. He was probably trying to keep him awake, Cas realized. “Do you have a weird neighbor that hides eggs for Easter egg hunts and then forgets to tell anyone to look for them?”

 

Castiel blinked at the glowing “3” button. This elevator was very slow. “Um,” he tried to focus. “I always thought it smelled more like cabbage than rotten eggs.”

 

Dean chuckled. “Then, do you have a weird neighbor that hides cabbage for Easter cabbage hunts and then forgets to tell anyone to look for them?”

 

“No,” Castiel’s throat was hurting. “He tells us to look for them, we just don’t bother. No one here is really a fan of cabbage.”

 

Dean laughed loudly as the elevator dinged again and the doors re-opened. “Really? Not one person takes the opportunity for free leafy green vegetables? Think of all the money you would save on meals, Cas!” They stepped out of the elevator and paused. “Which one is your place?”

           

Feeling slightly more awake, Castiel took a few steps forward without Dean’s support and stopped in front of his door. He unzipped his bag and started rummaging through it to find his keys. “Sure, I would save money, but think of the other consequences.”

 

“Other consequences, huh?” Dean was watching him very closely to make sure he wouldn’t fall. “Like what?”

 

“Cabbage breath.” He made a face at Dean. His hand brushed against cold metal and he pulled out his keys.

 

Dean laughed again. Cas liked making Dean laugh. “That’s true.”

 

“All the money I saved with free cabbage would be wasted on extra toothpaste and mouthwash.” Castiel muttered as he slid his key in the lock and opened the door.

 

“Ah,” Dean lamented as he trailed behind Cas into the room, “The sacrifices we make for minty fresh breath.”

 

Cas shut the door behind them and put his keys in the bowl he had by the door. He gestured Dean towards the kitchen, hoping that Dean would understand his need to be quiet for now. He smiled thankfully as Dean just nodded and walked into the other room.

 

He set his bag on the couch and threw his coat over the back before joining Dean in the kitchen. He tilted his head in confusion as Dean unloaded what was definitely more than just cold medicine.

 

“So,” Dean looked slightly embarrassed at himself, “I bought a few extra things? I saw a Walmart before we passed any other stores so I figured it wouldn’t hurt to just… get some other stuff.” He rubbed the back of his neck self-consciously.

 

Cas smiled slightly at Dean and gave him a little thumbs-up to show it was okay. He slumped down at the table and looked muzzily at the pile of items. Something about sitting down in his own home made his drowsiness come roaring back.

 

Dean smiled at the thumbs-up, eyes crinkling, but didn’t say anything about it. “I grabbed some NyQuil and some DayQuil because, well,” he shrugged, “you may want to be awake for some of tomorrow.”

 

Cas squinted at him in skepticism. Dean was being incredibly thoughtful. He probably wouldn’t know that being asleep was the best way to get through sickness alone. It sounded like he had always had Mary watching out for him, or Sam for company. Not bleached silences and deaf walls.

 

He shivered at bit at the thought of being alone. NyQuil was definitely the better option.

 

Dean’s concerned mother look retuned. “Are you cold? Do you want a blanket or something?”

 

Castiel closed his eyes and shook his head. He dragged them open again and raised his eyebrows slowly to indicate that Dean should continue telling him about the groceries.

 

Dean narrowed his eyes at Cas, as if he was scanning for lies. “Okay, I’m going to tell you what I got, but then it’s straight to bed, mister!” He pointed a finger at Cas, jokingly serious.

 

Castiel huffed a breath through his nose, a facsimile of a laugh, and tilted his head in understanding. He coughed into his elbow again.

 

“Good,” Dean muttered.  His eyes returned to the tabletop. “I grabbed a bottle of orange juice, for vitamin C and all.” He picked up the small orange bottle and shook it a bit. “Some tissues because I thought you might want to breathe a little,” he smiled as he tapped a blue Kleenex box. “I, um,” he looked embarrassed again, “I also got some tomatoes, a few other vegetables, and some rice.”

 

Castiel blinked slowly.

 

“My mom always makes us this soup when Sammy and I get sick,” Dean haltingly explained, “Tomato and rice? It’s really good, I swear,” Dean sounded like he was trying to convince Cas of something.

 

Castiel furrowed his brow but nodded. She had told Cas that just a bit ago. Maybe Cas was too tired to understand what Dean meant.

 

“I thought you might want to try some?” Dean looked incredibly nervous. Almost… scared? “I mean, I can leave if you want me to, I know we don’t know each other all that well, but it always makes me feel better and I thought you might like it.” Dean was ranting now. It was pretty cute, Cas thought. “You don’t have to try it; you might not like it. Damn, I didn’t even ask you if you were allergic to anything, you aren’t allergic to tomatoes or anything are you?” Dean stopped suddenly and flushed.

 

Castiel stared at him for a second before smiling as wide as his face would let him. Dean wanted to make him food. His mother’s special comfort food that Dean craved when he was sick. That was unbelievably sweet, and Castiel felt a thousand times better already. Plus, he wasn’t leaving Cas alone yet. He shook his head, happy but still sluggish. He really needed a nap.

 

Dean recognized the smile as acceptance and smiled back. “Good. Go change into pajamas or something more comfortable and take a nap. That NyQuil’s probably still in your system and you look wiped.” He shooed Castiel gently from the table. “I’ll make food. Do you want me to wake you up when it’s done or would you rather sleep?”

 

Cas bit his lip in thought. As tired as he was, he was also pretty hungry. And he’d rather be awake when Dean left than wake up later to a cold, empty apartment. He glanced at the food and back at Dean, seeing if he got the message.

           

“I’ll come get you when the food’s ready,” Dean winked at him.

 

Castiel smiled and nodded his thanks before sluggishly walking to his room. He closed the door gently and switched out his jeans for old, baggy sweatpants. He pulled off his nicer work shirt and pulled on a ratty old t-shirt from high school that proclaimed the fighting power of the “St. Joseph’s Mighty Angels” in cracked black letters.

 

He gently eased the door open again, smiling to himself at the clattering of dishes in the kitchen. He collapsed onto his bed and burrowed into the covers, falling asleep quickly.

 

* * *

 

 

_The walls were melting. The ceiling was sagging lower and lower, and Cas knew that he would suffocate when it reached him. He couldn’t move. He could only watch as it dipped, trapped by his military-tight sheets._

_He could scream or yell for help, if he wanted to, but he didn’t bother. He knew it wouldn’t matter._

_He tried to thrash against the restraining cloth, whimpering to himself and sobbing breathlessly. Every movement pulled the blankets tighter, his throat constricted by the cloth and the panic._

_“Oh, Castiel.” His mother sighed, leaning against the doorway. Had she been there just a moment ago? Had she always been there? Was she even there now? “You shouldn’t fight it, Castiel. You know better.”_

_Her hair was pulled back in her usual bun, suit as well-pressed and presentable as always. Her face was in the professional smile he always saw it in when she was in the newspaper or online._

_The ceiling drooped, steadily stretching terrifyingly closer._

_"Mother,” he begged, tears leaking down his face. In the back of his mind he knew it wouldn’t change anything, his mother only ever did what she felt like doing, but in his panic he couldn’t help himself._

_She just tsked at him in disapproval and watched. Her eyes were blue, like his own, but so void of warmth they were black holes._

_The ceiling sagged so far it touched his nose. He felt the heaviness of it, the stone cold texture._

_He screamed and thrashed as he was slowly smothered by the weight._

* * *

Castiel awoke to himself clutching onto Dean’s shirt and immediately sat up, nearly cracking their skulls together in the process. He felt tears in his eyes and couldn’t hold back the sob that escaped him.

 

“Hey, hey,” Dean soothed. He was sitting on his bed and rubbed Cas’ back soothingly. “S’okay, everything’s okay, it was just a dream.”

 

Castiel whimpered and buried his face into Dean’s shoulder.

 

“I know,” Dean whispered calmingly. “It’ll all be okay, you’re fine.”

 

“I was so _alone_ ,” Cas whispered. “Mother was there but she wasn’t _there_ , no one was there, it was just me and this… this _thing_.”

 

Dean hummed in acknowledgement, hand still moving in calming circles.

 

“It was all so _quiet_ , everything was silent.” Castiel laughed hysterically. “I was suffocating and all I could hear was myself dying, nothing else even squeaked or, or cracked, or _anything_.”

 

Dean’s hand moved up to run through Cas’ hair. “You’re okay now, Cas.”

 

Castiel drew in a shaky breath and just let himself rest against Dean for a few moments. He had been right, earlier, this was nice. Dean’s fingers felt nice running through his hair.

 

Castiel’s brain finally engaged and he realized that he was leaning, sweaty and tear-streaked, against a man he wasn’t even quite sure counted him as a friend. He leaned back, blushing at himself.

 

Dean almost looked like he wanted to leave his hand where it was, but he let it slide down to the bed.

 

“Sorry,” Castiel whispered, looking at an old tea stain shaped like a bean on the corner of his comforter.

 

Dean tilted Cas’ head up with a hand under his chin. “Don’t be sorry,” he looked sad. “Nightmares happen to the best of us. Can’t control that.” He quirked a little smirk. “And, hey, at least you had good timing. The soup is ready if you want some.”

 

Castiel nodded. His throat felt worlds better, scratchy rather than blistering, but he was in a quiet mood. That NyQuil really did its job. Or maybe he had just overworked it earlier, talking to Dean in the café?

 

“D’you wanna come out to the kitchen to eat or d’you want me to bring a bowl in here?” Dean’s soft smile returned. “I don’t mind either way, but I am legally required to tell you that you have a 95% less chance of spilling scalding hot soup on yourself if you have a table in front of you.”

 

Castiel did feel like he could handle shuffling out to the kitchen and collapsing into a chair. He tilted his head toward the kitchen in silent choice.

 

Dean’s smile stayed firmly in place as he moved his hand from under Cas’ chin (how long had that been there?) and backed up from the bed. “Need help?”

 

Castiel shook his head. He could stand on his own, at least.

 

“Okay, I’ll go ahead and dish a bowl.” Dean walked to the kitchen.

 

Castiel wiped off his face with his sheets, hoping he didn’t have tear tracks on his face. He stood slowly and reached for his fuzziest, most comfortable blanket. He draped it around his shoulders like a cloak of security and shuffled to the kitchen.

 

Dean’s back was to Cas as he ladled some soup into a bowl, but he turned his head at the rustling.

 

Cas was sure he looked like an absolute disaster, bedhead sticking up all over, nose running, face probably red and blotchy from crying. Not to mention the green fuzzy blanket he had over his shoulders.

 

Dean’s eyes crinkled as he turned back to the soup and muttered something to himself. Cas couldn’t hear it, but it sounded like he said “boot”? Maybe “fruit”? Something “-ute”.

 

Castiel sagged down into a chair, watching Dean. He had taken off his leather jacket he had on, now just wearing a plaid over shirt with something underneath. Castiel couldn’t quite tell from the back.

 

Dean turned around and set two bowls down on the table, reaching over to a drawer and pulling out two spoons. “I hope it’s okay, I made myself familiar with your kitchen.” Dean quirked another smile, but underneath it Castiel could read the slight anxiety.  

 

He just smiled and nodded, reaching a hand from under his blanket to take a spoon.

 

“Careful, dude, it’s hot.” Dean warned as he handed the utensil over.

 

Castiel took a spoonful and blew on it, raising his eyebrows and over exaggerating the motion.

 

Dean rolled his eyes and took a spoonful of his bowl. “Okay, smartass, but if you burn your tongue you have no one to blame but yourself.”

 

Castiel nodded seriously, the corner of his mouth twitching. He made sure it was cooled enough to eat and tried a bite. He smiled at the bowl. It was delicious, just like Dean had promised. He took another spoonful.

 

“Soooooo,” Dean prodded.

 

Cas raised his eyebrows innocently. “Mmhm?”

 

Dean gave him an unimpressed look.

 

Castiel chuckled. “It’s good, Dean.” He said, finally able to manage a normal volume. He still sounded gravelly, but much better than before. “It’s fantastic, actually. Is there any way I could bribe you into giving me the recipe?”

 

Dean snorted, but it did look like Cas’ answer had put him more at ease. “First of all, my own _mother_ didn’t even give me this recipe, I had to figure it out by myself through years of careful experimentation.” He sighed dramatically. “So many good tomatoes. So many bad results.”

 

Castiel nodded gravely and took another bite. “Their sacrifices were not in vain.”

 

“Thank you,” Dean replied, eyes glittering. “Secondly, I regret to inform you that there is no actual ‘recipe’.” He took a bite of his own portion. “You see, Cas,” he pointed at Cas with his spoon, “This is something we call ‘country cooking’. It’s all in pinches and dashes,” he shrugged, taking another spoonful. “You add when you think will taste good in the amount you want. No ‘teaspoons’ or ‘cups’ or any of that.”

 

Castiel blinked at Dean. He grew up in a world of exact measurements and straight lines. This sounded like… chaos. Castiel beamed at him. It sounded like _fun_.

 

Dean looked surprised by Castiel’s reaction but beamed back happily. “Looks like you’re alright with that, then. I suppose,” he gave a put-upon sigh, “If you truly desire, I can teach you my ways.”

 

“Really?” Castiel asked, finishing his bowl. It had been wonderful.

 

“Under one condition.”

 

Castiel leaned back, re-wrapping his blanket around himself. “Of course,” he replied, nodding seriously. “I would expect no less. One cannot just go around revealing secrets with reckless abandon. Society would fall.” He coughed into his blanket, and, thankfully, it sounded less rough than before.

 

Dean laughed.

 

“What’s the condition?” Cas asked with a small smile.

 

Dean turned a little red and he coughed in to his hand. “Gonadatwithme?”

 

“What?”  


Dean took a deep breath and looked Cas directly in the eyes. “Go on a date with me?”

 

Castiel just stared at him in surprise.

 

“I mean,” Dean began rambling, “You don’t have to say yes, I’ll still teach you if you want me to, and this isn’t like, me asking for payback or anything,” he gestured wildly to the soup and the box of tissues still on the table, “That shit was all just because you were sick and I wanted to help you out a little- “

 

“Dean.” Castiel interrupted, laughing. “It’s okay.”

 

“- and you can kick me out right now if I’m making you uncomfortable, I didn’t mean to make this- “. Dean stopped himself short. “Yeah?” He asked sheepishly.

 

“Yeah,” Castiel said, smiling. “I’d love to go on a date with you.”

 

“Oh, well.” Dean’s smile was radiant. “Good.”

 

 

**Five Years Later**

“Caaaas,” Dean whined, head hanging over the back of their couch. “I’m dying.”

 

Castiel chuckled as his kissed Dean’s forehead. “You’re not dying, Dean, it’s just a cold.”

 

Dean sniffled and wrapped his blanket tighter around himself. “Is the soup done yet?” he asked miserably.

 

Castiel tasted a spoonful. “Mm, just a few more minutes.”

 

Dean pouted at the Cas’ answer but didn’t complain.

 

Cas smiled as he thought about the numerous times he had made it over the last five years, at first just for Dean and then Sam. Mary had laughed and passed the metaphorical baton, claiming his tasted better anyway. He had even made her a batch last August, when she had caught a bug off of a child visiting the bookstore.

 

Jess, who had been a happily married Jessica Winchester for two years now, had craved it all throughout her pregnancy. He chuckled to himself as he remembered the calls at crazy hours begging (ordering) him to bring over a pot of tomato rice soup. Dean was always grumbly about the 2 AM calls, but Cas always managed to calm him down with soft kisses and jokes about unfound Easter cabbage.

 

“D’you think Mrs. Pemberton would let me borrow her dog if I asked nice?” Dean wondered aloud. “From the wet dog smell in the elevator, that has to be one fluffy dude.”

 

Castiel tried not to smile as he replied. “She might, but from the way she was looking at you the other day it might be ‘under one condition’.”

 

Dean groaned. “Oh my god, Cas, that was five years ago.” He buried his face in his hands, “Let me live. And,” He peered into the kitchen, pointing as seriously as he could with a fluffy blanket wrapped around him, “You said yes, remember?”

 

Castiel hummed and let his smile show, “Sure, but it’s still cute.”

 

“Caaasss,” Dean groaned. “Stoooop.”

 

“Of course, Dean.” He walked over and sat next to Dean, leaning in to whisper, “Under one condition.”

 

“Caaaaassssss.”

 

Castiel laughed, running his hand through Dean’s short, brown hair. “Okay, okay. Do you need anything?” He murmured.

 

Dean turned to Cas and hugged him, resting his head on Cas’ shoulder. “Just you.”

 

Castiel laughed quietly but continued petting Dean’s hair. “I’m not going to make your cold go away any faster, you know. You might want to replace me with some medicine.”

 

“Nah,” Dean’s grip tightened, “I could never replace you.”

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know why Cas always ends up sick in my fics, I guess I like hurt/comfort ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯   
> Thanks for reading!   
> Come talk to me on tumblr! arya3610.tumblr.com


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